


Slipping through your fingers

by ShezzasCompanion



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cocaine Use, F/M, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-The Sign of Three, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-18 23:55:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3588696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShezzasCompanion/pseuds/ShezzasCompanion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night of the wedding Sherlock has had enough of the pain that had been eating at him since the planning began, and he gives in to the one thing he knows will numb it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slipping through your fingers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KittensAndRage (cumberlove4ever)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=KittensAndRage+%28cumberlove4ever%29).



It had been slowly killing him inside, going to the tux fitting, googling serviettes, replacing his crime wall with wedding plans for john and his new wife Mary, but now that was all over as he gave a retreating glance to the hall, everyone dancing and drinking, having the time of their lives. No one would notice he was gone, they never did and now Sherlock as free to express and deal with his pain as he saw fit. 

His hands where deep in the pockets of his coat as he made his way to the street to hail a cab. He didn’t actually wish to attend the wedding, he hadn’t planned on it, but when John had asked him to be his best man how could he have said now with out rocking the boat? And if he hadn’t worried about coming down from a high in the middle of the reception he would have taken a hit before the car arrived to take him to the church,though given the way his speech ended up he doubted anyone could have told the difference.

However, as the cab pulled up, it didn’t matter, he as on his own now and he wasn’t sure how that felt other than like something had been ripped from his chest.

“Baker Street.” He muttered to the cabbie as he got in, leaning against the seat with his eyes closed as it pulled away from the curb.his eyes burning as he tired not to think about how he had lost his friend,must have been what Mrs. Hudson’s friend felt like when she left the wedding early, it was horrible, something he wouldn’t wish on anyone. tears seeped from under his closed eyelids, down his face and onto his coat. He wished that he as a machine like everyone thought he was, then this wouldn’t be so hard, so painful. 

The cab pulled up to baker street faster than he had expected but it s for the best, He gave the man the fair and a rather decent tip before heading inside,his feet dragging on the stairs as he made his way to his flat, the overwhelming feeling of loneliness consuming him. Sherlock unlocked the door and toed off his shoes as he removed his cat and hung it up behind the door as he closed it.

His eyes were fixed on the crime wall, the wedding plans, guest lists and the like. Which all came down in shreds as he ripped it from the wall, his eyes burning and his chest constricting as he fought back a sob as the paper came to the floor with soft swishing sounds. before the last paper hit the ground he turned and made his way to the bedroom, his hands working on the tux jacket to get it off as he entered his room The detective flung it to the wardrobe as his fingers unbuttoned the cuffs as he made his way to his dresser, in the back of the top most drawer, Sherlock found his stash and the things he would need. 

He tied off his arm as he sat on the floor before filling the needle, the burnette hissed as the needle broke his skin the cocaine burning as it entered his blood stream, but the euphoria that followed made it work it, for a little while. 

Sherlock leaned against his bed, eyes closed as he took in the feeling of something of tearing at his insides. The euphoria was slowly waning as was the sound of the street below, his own heart beat, his breathing decreased in intensity. He was coming down and it wasn’t going to be pleasant. He started to feel the craving for more, but as he opened his eyes to look at the vial next to him, he realized there was no more to be had.he groaned as he picked it up to get a better look, but it was just as empty as it as on the floor. He groaned as he tossed the vial against the wall, the glass shattering on impact, he would have to wait until morning to go out and get more, at least in the daylight he could avoid being seen and avoid having to listen to hudders talk about how beautiful the wedding was. 

Slowly he got to his feet, picking up the needle as he went, the needle went into the container he had in between the wall and the dresser that he would have to dump out later. His hands had begun to shake as he undid the waist coat and then the shirt he wore. Sherlock cursed himself for not undressing earlier, before he shot up, but he had just wanted to dull the ache in his chest. 

His clothes went to join the tux jacket on the wardrobe as he crawled into bed. He was exhausted and he was shivering as he curled up into a ball. He felt worse than he had before he had taken a hit. 

Sherlock couldn’t sleep, no matter how much he tried, the aches i his body where too much and he couldn’t get warm, he couldn’t stop his body from shaking. And then he couldn’t wait until morning. Slowly he pushed himself up and out of bed, made his way over to the dresser and pulled out the bottom drawer, pulling out the clothes he hadn’t needed in a few years. the tack suit bottoms and polo fit him better than he would have thought but that didn’t matter as he pulled on the running shoes and wind breaker that was just more to hide the fact he was buying than to keep him warm. 

with a new needle in one pocket and the money he needed for his purchase in another. He was quiet as he slipped out of his flat and descended the stairs as quietly as he could. 

The warm air was nice against his ace as he made his way down Baker Street and into the alley, he still knew the pathway to his dealer by heart.

to say the least, his dealer was surprised when he showed up at the door, thought he couldn’t blame the man do pulling a gun considering the hour, but Sherlock did compensate him for the inconvenience. 

With his purchase in his pocket, he made his way back to  Baker Street, his hands practically itching to pop the top off the vial and plunge the needle into the vial, but he was going to wait until he was back in the confines of his room, at least he knew what went on in there more than he did in the alleys he navigated.  

It took him five minutes to put the key into the lock and unlock the door, his hands were trembling badly, but that would be remedied soon. He made his way up the stairs as quietly as he came down them, pausing only slightly to see if his landlady was awake, though thankfully she wasn’t. He locked the door behind him once he made it inside of his flat. carefully he pulled the vial from his jacket pocket as he made his way to his bedroom, careful not to step on the broken glass that he told himself he would pick up later. 

The band was on his arm before the windbreaker was completely off and it took him a few moments to steady his hand long enough to slip the needle under his skin. The feeling was just as wonderful as before and the fact his hands had began to stop shaking was just as wonderful in his opinion. The needle was placed on top of the dresser, the vial and band he use was placed next to it. He felt alert and euphoric like he did after a case, but this was quicker, He stumbled slightly as he moved out of his room, into the rest of the flat. He needed to clean up the mess he made before Mrs. Hudson brought up his morning tea, that was as if she remembered, if she didn’t then it would be to his benefit, but either way he would have to clean up. The papers were shredded and placed in the bin and the glass was swept up so he wouldn’t hurt himself in case he forgot it was there, after it was said and done he found himself laying on his bed, wondering how long it would take before John forgot his existance.

 

Sherlock had told himself that he wasn’t going to fall back into his Uni practices, but he couldn’t stand the exhaustion, chills, chills and tremors that came with the withdrawl. But it wasn’t as if there was anyone to check on him. They had all moved on with their lives, Even John had, and he had promised nothing would change, but that had been a lie. But as long as John was happy that was all that matters, at least that was what he told himself as he flopped ungracefully onto the couch, he had run out of cocaine once more, it must have been the fourth vial in a month, and he didn’t have enough cash on him to purchase anymore, and he wasn’t desperate enough to do favors, so he would wait. He would sleep and wait until he could function enough to make a withdraw from his account to get his next fix.

*

It has been a month, a month since John had seen Sherlock and it was a bit concerning. He hadn’t even heard from the man and he thought that he would have at least sent him a text for a case he needed help on, but apparently that wasn’t the case. So the doctor decided it was time to drop in and see how things where.

The blonde man let himself into the building, being quiet incase Mrs. Hudson was still asleep, and made his way up the stairs. John furrowed his brow as he noticed the door was closed, and he was more concerned to find it locked.

"Sherlock?" He called as he stuck his key into the door, unlocked it, pushing it open. On the couch laid the detective, however he didn’t wake from the noise John made like he usually would. Alarm bells began to go off in his head, he was too thin, to pasty and upon closer inspection John noticed the fresh track marks in the crook of his elbows.

"Christ, Sherlock, What have you done?"

It was no real secret of what Sherlock had done as John began to sink into doctor mode, taking the other man’s pulse, counting his breaths per minute. He swore at himself for staying away for so long, but he didn’t think that things would have gotten so out of hand so quickly, thought the look Sherlock gave him at the wedding should have told him that much. If he was honest, things were not going that well for his married life, things had been strained, it wasn’t happy or full of joy as one would have hoped or expected, it had gotten to the point he was cycling to work while Mary drove, but no one said anything, if they noticed no one made a comment. 

He had no idea why he had decided to come and see Sherlock other than the act it seemed like it had been longer than a month, it felt that way, and now he wished he had come by sooner, if he had then Sherlock wouldn’t be like this, then he wouldn’t have turned to cocaine. 

There was no way to determine how long Sherlock ad been passed out, but there was no way John was going to leave him there by himself. he pulled the blanket that was on the back of the sofa and laid it over the brunette, before moving to the kitchen to put the kettle on. He would wait until Sherlock woke, and after assessing how he was, they would talk.

His body ached, his skin hurt, and he was certain getting his by a cab would have been less painful, but Sherlock had no desire to actually test that theory out, yet. The detective groaned as he opened his eyes, the flat still shrouded in darkness, though it wasn’t as dark as before. It took him a moment to realize he was covered up and another tow to realize that the door to his flat as open and that he wasn’t alone. His bloodshot eyes were focused on the man in his chair, since he had long ago moved John’s into his bedroom. He couldn’t be real could he? John Watson Here? In his flat? No, John had his own life to live, a wife and a baby on the way he certainly wouldn’t waste his time to come here, It must be some hallucination, from what he wasn’t sure. 

John looked up at the sound of groaning to find Sherlock waking up, He didn’t move or make a sound until the other man’s eyes had fallen on him, but the look f disbelief on his face was hard to swallow. Didn’t he think that John would have come back? or had too much time passed that that hope that all been shot into his veins?

“Sherlock.” John said after a few moments, the brunette’s gaze faltering slightly.

“You can’t be John.” He muttered shaking his head slowly as he sat up. “John is too busy for me..”

that sentence made john’s heart clench, it made that look Sherlock had given him at the wedding that much more…. real, he supposed. 

“Sherlock, please.”

“Hallucinations aren’t suppose to beg, that’s my job.” 

John slowly stood, walking towards the man on the couch slowly cautiously, like one would a delirious animal. 

“You aren’t hallucinating Sherlock, It’s me John, It really is me, John.” He said as he stopped by the coffee table, But Sherlock just continued to shake his head, until John reached across the space and gently touched his face.

Sherlock closed his eyes as john leaned forward, he didn’t want to be disappointed when the man he was looking at didn’t really touch his face because he wasn’t really there, hallucinations couldn’t really touch you, they were just figments of one’s imagination. but that was until there was something warm against his face, causing him to open his eyes. gradually he reached up and pressed his hand against the one on his cheek. It was real and warm and not a production of his mind. And as happy as he was to find out it wasn’t a production of his mind. Then the horrible realization that John was there set in.

The brunette pulled away from the touch, John’s fingers  sliding against his skin as it fell away. He refused to look at the doctor who cleared his throat but he didn’t even bother to look to see the disappointment in the blondes face. He couldn’t bare the fact that he had disappointed John, but John wasn’t suppose to come around anymore, was he? 

“If You were getting back into this sort of thing, you know you could have called right? We could have talked, could have worked something out.” There as something in John’s voice, maybe it was the way it cracked, or the way it strained that cut him, that made the fact he doing cocaine had hurt John. But that seemed to be the only thing he was capable of doing, hurting John. He had hurt him when he faked his death, he had hurt him by not keeping in touch or letting him in on the secret. He hadn’t even told him the real reason he had jumped or what he had endured to keep him safe, and now he had hurt John by trying to kill his own pain. 

“I-I’m Sorry.” Was all he could muster out, but that was in a low haggard voice that. He was sorry, and that as all he would most likely ever be.

“I-I’m sorry.” Sherlock repeated, unable to look John in the eye,instead focusing on his shaking hands.

“Why?” John asked as he sat on the edge of the table, hands clasped between his knees. “Why did you turn back to drugs?”  
  
Sherlock couldn’t answer that question, John was married, he was going to be a father, he didn’t need to know that Sherlock had feelings for him and that he had already fallen on his sword and he had accepted that he couldn’t have the doctor and he had let him go. 

“Sherlock?” John asked once more, but Sherlock couldn’t do this, not now, not with his body aching and his hands shaking and the words ready to spill out from his lips, but he couldn’t do that to John, he wouldn’t do that to him because he had done enough to the doctor.

“No cases.” He lied, John would by that would’t he? He knew Sherlock as prone to smoke like a train or look for other substances to use when he was bored, it was better than confessing he had a broken heart, it was better than admitting he was in love with a married man. wasn’t it?

John gave him a skeptical look, Last time they had looked over Sherlock’s inbox it had been bursting and he was certain it still looked the same way, there was no way even he could have gone through all of them, even someone like him would still have some cases left over.

“Don’t lie to me” John said a few moments later, Sherlock stiffening under the words before he stood on shaking aching legs.

“I’m not lying” He muttered as he wobbled past John towards the door to close it before heading to the kitchen “I-I’m protecting you”

“Protecting me? You don’t need to protect me Sherlock” John replied as he too stood, eyes following Sherlock’s every move. “What are you suppose to protect me from?”

Silence rang out in the flat as Sherlock stopped between the kitchen and sitting room, hand clenched around the door frame. “From me….”

“Why would I need to be protected from you?” He asked, tension filling the air, and Sherlock turned slightly.

“Isn’t that what you do when you have forbidden feelings for someone unavailable? You protect them from your feelings for them?”

John’s heart stopped as he heard Sherlock’s words. That couldn’t be right, not what he was implying, Sherlock, love him? No. He was married to his work, he had said so the first night that they met, thought that was not was presenting itself now, there was no work for him to be married to, well there was no work that he had married himself to. Instead Sherlock as laid bare, he had just let slip that he had feelings for John romantic feelings, and now he was waiting for the backlash, the scathing remarks that should spill from John’s lips and tear him to shreds.

“Y-You have romantic feelings for me?” John asked after a moment, his hands were growing sweat, causing him to wipe them on his trousers. Honestly hadn’t this been something he had always wanted since that night at angelo’s?  
  
“Isn’t that what I just said?” Sherlock asked, his voice missing that annoyance and the venom that came with having to repeat himself, instead he just looked defeated, as if he was just waiting for a verbal thrashing so he cold just go lay down and finish his emotional dying

.”Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Now it was Sherlock’s turn to have the look of confusion on his face, before it dawned on him, the implications behind the words. Did that mean that at some point John had had feelings for him as well?

“Because I thought you could never want someone like me, the freak, the one who Sally says gets off on crime scenes and faked his own death….”Sherlock replied. never fulling turning to face John. “Because I am nothing anyone would want. that was made fairly clear early on.”

“Then You thought wrong, didn’t you?” John voiced, he wasn’t going to let this conversation go, not until they talked this out, got everything out in the open, “because I did… I do… I figured that the worlds most observant man would have noticed it, could have picked up on it, that is why I never said, that is why I never spoke up.. because the thing is, I always thought you would say no if I made it known.”

A silence fell between them as Sherlock made his way into the kitchen finally, turning on the kettle though he doubted he could stomach tea. the tesnion and anxiety running through his body was nearly enough to make him forget that he withdrawing, thought the aches as he moved reminded him there was ore to talk about than the fact he was in love with John. 

“But it doesn’t matter now, does it?” he asked s he looked up at the doctor from where he had settled himself against the counter. “Because you are married with a baby on the way, and had to be the thing you have always wanted isn’t? a nice quiet life with out feet next to your beer or a head on a platter” The sound of Sherlock’s voice was not the tone John thought he could make, it was low, and pitiful and heartbreaking if he was honest.

“Why did you start taking cocaine again?” John asked again, he didn’t want to tell Sherlock what he had now was not working for him, and he wanted to know, he wanted a reason.

“Because you got married.”

Though that was not the answer he thought he would get, ice fell into John’s stomach, as he heard the words that were nearly too low to hear.

_Who leaves a wedding early?_

_  
if you truly love someone you let them go.._

And that was what Sherlock had done? He had let him go because he thought that this was what John had wanted. He had hand’t he? planning the wedding? throwing himself into the planning the serviettes.

“You started to use again because I got married?”

The detective nodded as he looked at his hands, they were trembling slightly. “Things aren’t the same, you know that, it took you a month to come by… I already lost my chance, you can’t deny that.”

The silence that had stretched between as nearly tangible, and after fifteen minutes, it was apparent to John that the conversation was closed, Sherlock had failed to look up at him, but that most most likely because he had dozed off leaning against the counter. the doctor sighed as he ran a hand over his face, this was certainly not what he had been expecting, he had expected to find Sherlock trying to blow up the kitchen or walking all over the furniture because the crime all was too small and the floor was better for his new case. And now John as beginning to regret not coming sooner, not stepping up sooner because this could have all been avoided.

His unhappiness, Sherlock’s unhappiness could have been avoided, and they could be solving crimes together in that bubble they had created for themselves before he jumped off the top of Bart’s. 

_You can’t go I’m pregnant_

Mary’s words echoed through his mind as he made his way towards Sherlock, before wrapping his arm around his waist, guiding him to the kitchen chair before he fell over. 

Sherlock slumped against the surface and John figured that he would be fine for now. Quietly he made his way down the stairs and out the door before anyone realized he was gone, He needed to sort out his life, he wasn’t happy and he knew that, and the question was did he want to spend the next eighteen years feeling this way, full of resentment and ill feelings that would make everyone miserable. He knew Several people like that from the clinic that he worked at, And honestly he didn’t want to be come one of them. 

Mary wasn’t home when he arrived back at the flat, but maybe it was better that as he placed the divorce papers on the table before heading up to the bedroom to grab the bag he had packed for his bike to work.

He would pay what needed to be paid: Alimony, child support without a fuss, and he knew he would be known as that jerk that left his wife while she was pregnant, but it was better than the alternative. 

With his bags packed, John headed out the door, walking past the table and the papers that had his name signed at the bottom, He had been in and out even before the ink was dry. 

The cab ride back to Baker Street was quiet and somber and he knew that there was no way he could come back from this, not with the damage that was begin caused. 

Though there was now a long road ahead of him, helping Sherlock through withdraw, the divorce proceedings, getting accustom to the looks he would be given when they found out what he had done, but he would live. 

The cab came to a halt in front of 221 and John paid the man his fair before grabbing his bags and stepping out. Just as he stepped on the first stair on the stoop, the door opened and Sherlock moved to step out but stopped. 

The brunette had changed his clothes, he was wearing a wind breaker, a tattered looking polo and some track suit bottoms. He looked shocked to see John standing there with his bags in his hands, and he figured it did look strange.

“Where are you going?” The doctor asked and Sherlock looked at the ground, 

“Out.”

“To get more?”

“Maybe. I thought I had scared you off, you were gone hen I woke up.” 

“Well there is no need for that.” John stated as he motioned for Sherlock to go back inside, and the taller man did, with small tentative steps backwards.

“Why do you say that?”

“I’m moving back in, Here, with you.” John said as he walked passed him and to the stairs.

“You are married John, you just can’t move back in here.” Sherlock stated as he turned and followed him.

“I am getting a divorce Sherlock, I am leaving Mary.”

“Why?”

“Because I am miserable and biking to work and if it is like this now, then it’s only going to get worse and I don’t want that to happen. John said as he began to ascend the stairs. “So is the second bedroom still available.”

“It’s the same way it was when you left.”

John nodded as he came to the landing. “Why don’t you go change and shower and I’ll cook something for dinner? I imagine you aren’t feeling that great.”

Sherlock gave him a small nod and stood and watched John head up the second flight of stairs, it wasn’t how he had expected the day to go, he wasn’t expecting John to decide to get a divorce and move back in with him. He knew what awaited them would not be easy, but it would be manageable now, because at least he wouldn’t be going through it alone 


End file.
